


Move With Me

by KiaraMGrey



Series: Good Omens Meet-Cutes [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Takes Care of Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Insecure Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Shameless Smut, Shy Aziraphale (Good Omens), Stripper Crowley (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), private dances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:46:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29011491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiaraMGrey/pseuds/KiaraMGrey
Summary: It's Aziraphale's fortieth birthday, and he would like nothing more than to settle down for a quiet night with a good book and a bottle of wine. Unfortunately, his friend Anathema has other plans and decides to throw him a wild party. Which would be fine, really, if it weren't for the fact that he didn't actually know anyone there. To make matters worse, Anathema decided to hire a stripper as entertainment.Aziraphale resigns himself to a night of embarrassment at the hands of the gorgeous red head Crowley, but things take a turn when Crowley proves to be far gentler and kinder than he ever could have guessed. Aziraphale never would have expected a stripper of all people to be the one who respects his boundaries the most. Even stranger, Crowley seems to actually enjoy talking to him. Perhaps people are right when they say you can find love in the most unexpected of places.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Meet-Cutes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128290
Comments: 62
Kudos: 563
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs, Ineffablexxx - Directors Cut, Top Aziraphale Recs





	Move With Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to just be smut, so of course it turned soft and fluffy. These two have a mind of their own and I'm just the vessel. If they want to be soft for each other, that's what they're going to be.

This had been a bad idea. Aziraphale had no idea why he had allowed his friends to talk him into this. It was _his_ birthday after all, shouldn’t he be doing something he enjoyed? But once Anathema got an idea into her head, there was no use trying to dissuade her. So here he was, in his home surrounded by people he didn’t know well enough and loud music pumping from the stereo system Newt had brought. The only people he actually wanted with him on an occasion such as this were Anathema, Newt, Tracy, and perhaps his kind neighbor Deirdre. Everyone else were from the village, people Anathema knew. At least she had bought a bottle of the good wine he enjoyed.

This was how he found himself standing alone against the back wall of his own home, his second glass of wine already halfway gone. Nobody even noticed him, which was how he liked it. Although it was a bit sad, given that this was his birthday. Two hours more and he would be able to kick everyone out and settle down in bed with a good book. He sighed and took a large gulp of wine. This was going to be a long two hours.

“Hey there birthday boy, what are you doing all alone over here?”

Aziraphale glanced over at Anathema as she sidled up beside him. “You know I don’t like this sort of thing, Ana. I don’t even know half of these people.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop being dramatic. You’ve met every single person here at some point.”

“Well then they aren’t very memorable. How early can I send them all home?”

“Don’t be like that. You only turn forty once. Everyone is having fun!”

He let out a huff. “Yes, everyone except me! It’s my birthday.”

Anathema’s shoulders dropped. “Are you really that miserable?”

Aziraphale sighed. He knew he was coming off as ungrateful, and making his best friend feel unappreciated was the last thing he wanted. She had put quite a bit of effort into all this.

“No, I’m not miserable. I just have a bit of a headache.”

She perked up. “Drink some more of that wine and you’ll be feeling much better. Besides, your birthday present should be here any minute now.”

Aziraphale frowned, about to ask her what she meant, but she had already taken off into the crowd. That did not sound good. What could she possibly have gotten him that was only now being delivered? Perhaps it was some sort of dessert? He smiled, imagining all manners of decadent sweets that he could enjoy. Just then the lights flickered, as though someone were flipping the switch.

Anathema appeared beside him again with a wide smile. “Come on!”

She began to pull him through the crowd by his hand. “Ana, what on Earth are you talking about? What did you do?”

They finally came to a stop in the sitting room, where an area had been cleared out. And there, standing in the middle of the room, was a police officer. Oh dear, had someone complained about the noise? But that didn’t make any sense. Anyone who would have need to complain was already here. Even old Mrs. Wilson, who was well into her eighties, was seated on the sofa with a glass of brandy. So why was this officer here?

He was, well, he was very handsome. His uniform was perhaps a size or two too small, not exactly good for his line of duty. Dark red hair could be seen beneath the hat and a scattering of freckles were prominent on his cheekbones, just beneath the dark lenses he wore. He was tall and slender, with long legs that ended in a pair of heavy boots. It was difficult to deny that he was quite beautiful, not that he would ever date cop of course. Aziraphale was about to ask what he was here for when he spoke.

“Alright, I received word that a rowdy party was going on here.”

Well, Aziraphale would hardly classify this as rowdy. Most of the people here were parents or elderly. He cleared his throat.

“I apologize officer—” he glanced at his badge, “Crowley. We’ll turn the music down right away.”

Officer Crowley turned to look at him and stopped, the dark lenses pointed directly at him. After a couple of seconds with him saying nothing, Aziraphale began to fidget. Had he said something wrong? But then a wide grin spread across his face, a hint of sharp canines showing.

“Am I to assume you’re the one who’s birthday it is?”

He swallowed and nodded. “Er, yes, it is.”

“Well then,” officer Crowley said, turning towards him, “I think you’ve been very naughty.”

Aziraphale blinked. Well, that was certainly inappropriate. “Excuse me?”

“Oh yeah,” he said as he began to saunter forward. “Very bad. And your friend here has hired me to punish you.”

Oh no. Oh dear Lord. He knew where this was going. Oh god, not in front of the whole town. He turned to Anathema who was smiling at him. He was going to kill her. When he looked back to Crowley, he was beckoning him with one finger and nodding towards an open chair.

“Come on over and have a seat birthday boy. I think you need to be frisked.”

Aziraphale was sure his face was bright red by now, and he felt as though his entire body was made from cement. He couldn’t move an inch if he wanted to, and he most assuredly did not want to. All he could do was give a small shake of his head.

“Oh, come on Aziraphale!” Anathema laughed, giving his back a nudge.

He wanted to shout at her, to drag her from the room and give her a verbal lashing. She knew he hated this sort of thing. He hated having eyes on him. He hated attention and public shows of any kind. And now, every eye in his home was directed at him. Desperation rose up inside of him and he shook his head more vigorously. He couldn’t do this!

“Go ahead Zira!” Tracy said encouragingly from his other side. And then everyone joined in, shouts of encouragement and laughter pointed his way.

Oh god, he was going to have a break down. This was humiliating and ridiculous and he was only making it worse for himself. Perhaps he could just sit down and get this over with. But then he looked up at the stripper in from of him, and what he saw surprised him. His face had lost its sharp edge, and instead had taken on a soft sort of sympathy. He turned and pointed to Tracy.

“You, young miss. Don’t think I didn’t see you there eyeing me up. That’s disorderly conduct in my book. Come here and get your punishment.”

Tracy giggled as she was pulled forward and all attention moved to her. Aziraphale let out a breath. Ah, that was why he felt so dizzy. He hadn’t been breathing. Nobody seemed to even notice him anymore as thumping music began and Crowley began to circle Tracy. The hat went first, tossed carelessly onto the floor. His red hair was coifed and combed perfectly. Aziraphale watched, transfixed, as he began to gyrate his hips while his hands undid the buttons of his costume. Oh, dear lord, this was all too much.

When he was sure nobody was looking, he slipped away into the crowd, making his way to the kitchen. He needed another drink. _Why_ had Anathema thought that would be a good idea? Was she _trying_ to embarrass him? Crowley, not that that was likely his real name, probably thought he was a ridiculous buzz kill who couldn’t even relax enough to have a good time.

He poured a generous glass of wine and then spotted a bottle of tequila on the table. Oh, what the hell. He took a shot, grimacing as the harsh liquid went down. He just needed something to help mellow him out.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he found himself back in the living room, his back pressed to the wall once more. The strip show seemed to be over, as everybody had spread out once more. Good, at least now he didn’t have to worry about being roped back into that mess.

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon.”

Aziraphale blinked and looked over at the person who had sidled up beside him. For a moment he didn’t recognize him. He no longer wore the tight police costume. Instead, he had switched it out for a black button up and jeans. But that red hair was instantly recognizable. Aziraphale felt heat rush to his face as he hastily looked away.

“Um, sorry, what was that?”

“I said, that went down like a lead balloon. Didn’t mean to embarrass you like that.”

Aziraphale bit his lip and shook his head. “It’s not your fault. Anathema knows I don’t enjoy being the center of attention. You were only doing your job.”

“Still,” the red head said with a shrug. “I’m typically good at figuring out if the person I’m hired for is into it or not much faster. But I, ah, got a bit distracted.”

Aziraphale smiled. “It’s quite alright.”

He returned his smile. “My name’s Crowley, by the way.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “That’s your real name? I assumed you used it as a stage identity.”

“Nah,” he said with a lazy smile. “I don’t care if people know my name. But I didn’t catch yours.”

“Oh, oh terribly sorry! I’m Aziraphale.”

He held out his hand and Crowley took it, giving it a firm shake. “Aziraphale. Lovely to meet you.”

He felt himself flush and looked away. “Oh, yes, it’s lovely to meet you as well.”

Crowley leaned back against the wall, his long body moving with a grace Aziraphale had never been able to manage. He was finding it exceedingly difficult not to stare.

“So, how does it feel to be a whole year older?”

Aziraphale sighed. “A bit like I’m pedaling wildly towards a cliffs edge with no breaks.”

Crowley snorted. “Damn, that’s dark.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been drinking, and that tends to make me a bit more open with my thoughts.”

“Please, don’t apologize. I appreciate candor. God knows I’ve gotten myself into more trouble than I’d like by letting my mouth run away from me.”

Aziraphale chewed his lip, wondering if that was the double entendre it sounded like. He allowed his eyes to travel around the room, though his attention was still laser focused on the red head beside him. He racked his brain for something to say.

“Are you still on the clock?”

Crowley threw his head back and laughed heartily. “What, you think this is my next routine? Casual party goer? Can’t imagine that would be a popular one.”

Heat rushed into Aziraphale’s face as he looked down in embarrassment. “Oh, I’m- I’m terribly sorry! I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

A warm hand on his shoulder made him stop and look up. Crowley was giving him an incredibly kind smile.

“Relax, it’s fine. To answer your question, no, I’m not on the clock right now. After I finished my set Anathema told me I could hang around if I wanted and enjoy the party.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I do hope you are enjoying it.”

“I am now.”

Aziraphale’s eyes darted up to meet Crowley’s, and he felt a coil of heat twist in his stomach at the sincerity he found there. He looked away shyly.

“Oh, really now.”

“I mean it!” he insisted. “I’m having a great time.”

“You don’t even have a drink,” Aziraphale pointed out.

Crowley glanced down at his hands, as though only now noticing that fact. “Well, that’s something that can be remedied rather easily. Be back in a sec. Don’t go anywhere. Or do. It’s your home after all.”

Aziraphale blinked after Crowley as he sauntered off in the direction of the kitchen. The night had certainly taken an unexpected turn. If he didn’t know any better, it had sounded like Crowley was flirting with him. But no, that was preposterous. Men who looked like Crowley didn’t flirt with frumpy middle-aged booksellers. He was only being polite because it was his home and his birthday.

But still, Aziraphale would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the company. He wasn’t about to turn away such a handsome conversational partner, even if he was doing it out of a sense of obligation. Oh, he was pathetic, wasn’t he? Just then Crowley appeared by his side once more with a drink in hand.

“Sorry for the wait, I had to fight off a grandmother to get to the good stuff.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Oh, that isn’t the good stuff. If you want a proper drink, I have a bottle of twenty-five-year-old single malt scotch in my library that I’ve been waiting for a special occasion to open.”

Crowley grinned and tilted his head. “Well, it is your birthday. If that’s not a special occasion, then I don’t know what is.” But Crowley’s grin slipped slightly and he straightened up. “Unless of course you were waiting to open it with a special someone. Probably don’t want to open it with some random stripper you just met.”

“What? Oh, no dear, that’s not true! I don’t have a special someone, unless you count my friends Anathema and Tracy. If- if you would like to join me I would very much like to get away from all this noise and drink it with you.”

Crowley’s face lit up. “Yeah, course I’d like to.”

Aziraphale glanced down shyly. “Oh, oh well alright. This way then.”

He led him through the living room and past the kitchen to the stairwell that led to the top floor. The steps creaked beneath his feet, but it could barely be heard over the noise of the party. He hoped nobody noticed him slipping away to a private part of his home with a man he just met, but didn’t look back to make sure. He could hear Crowley following close behind. Once on the second floor he led him down a short hall and opened the door at the end, which opened to his library. Or he should say his second library. His study downstairs hosted a large number of his books, but this room was for the special editions and rare books. Crowley whistled as he closed the door behind him.

“Wow, you sure do have a lot of books.”

Aziraphale smiled at him over his shoulder. “Oh, this is only about twenty percent of my collection.”

Crowley walked to the shelves and leaned in to examine the spines, and Aziraphale stopped to watch him. He was even lovelier in the low light of the library. The music of the party was muffled through the door and felt very far away, as though they were suddenly in their own little world. Crowley turned his gaze towards him, and he shook himself from those thoughts. Hoping Crowley hadn’t noticed him staring, he quickly made his way to the cupboard where he stored his scotch. He selected two tumblers and walked back to the desk, where he poured two healthy sized portions. Crowley sauntered forward, his hips swinging in a most tempting and seductive way, and selected one of the glasses.

“Thanks,” he said as he raised his glass. “Shall we toast?”

Aziraphale picked up his own glass. “Alright. To what?”

“Hmm,” Crowley hummed, “How about to growing older and making new friends.”

A warmth filled Aziraphale’s chest. “Yes, I like that. To new friends.”

They clinked their glasses, and each took a long drink. Crowley smacked his lips together appreciatively.

“Ah, that’s a good scotch.”

“I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to sound so smug about it, Mr. rare book and expensive alcohol collector. I usually get by on boxed wine and twenty-dollar tequila, so this is a nice treat.”

“Well,” Aziraphale said as he moved to settle into his armchair, “I’m more than happy to share.”

Crowley dropped onto the sofa across from him, spreading his body out like a dish on a platter and making Aziraphale’s mouth go dry.

“And I’m thankful for that, angel.”

Aziraphale flushed and smiled into his drink. They fell into easy conversation, and if Aziraphale didn’t know any better he would think he had known Crowley for years. It was oddly effortless talking to him, which was not common for Aziraphale. He usually over thought every sentence and stumbled over his words. But Crowley was so inviting, it was impossible to not fall into him.

“And that,” Crowley said with a flourish an hour later, “Is why I haven’t dated anyone in a year.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “Your ex sounds like a horrible person my dear. You really need to find someone better.”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah, trust me, I know.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t been in a relationship for four years. Not since I broke up with my ex. He wasn’t very nice either, and I’m afraid he put some rather unsavory thoughts in my head about myself. Its difficult to be intimate with someone when you feel as though they find you unattractive.”

Aziraphale wasn’t exactly sure _why_ he was sharing all of this. It was horribly personal, and yet Crowley’s unguarded eyes made him want to share all his secrets. Crowley scowled.

“What the fuck? Your ex told you that you were unattractive?”

Aziraphale shrugged. “He didn’t say those exact words, but his constant comments about my weight and style got the point across.”

“Then he’s a goddamn idiot. You’re fucking gorgeous and you don’t need to lose a pound. You’re far better off without him.”

Aziraphale’s brain became rather stuck on the fact that Crowley thought he was gorgeous. It didn’t sound right, but he had sounded so sure as he said it.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I do indulge quite often. I could use a bit more exercise and a bit less cake.”

Crowley leaned forward. “Angel, look at me.”

Aziraphale dragged his eyes up to Crowley’s face and felt his heart skip a beat. The intensity of his golden stare bore into his own and ensnared him completely. He swallowed loudly.

“You don’t need to lose any weight if you don’t want to. There are plenty of men that would kill to be with you. Who would worship your body and tell you every day how stunning you are. So put that jackass out of your head.”

Aziraphale nodded slowly. “O-ok.”

There was a long moment of tension as they stared at each other, but then Crowley blinked and the connection broke. He noted the pink tint to Crowley’s cheeks and wondered if it was just the alcohol or something more that was making him flush. The room felt comfortably warm, and Aziraphale found himself sinking further into his chair. Crowley seemed to feel the same as he threw one leg over the back of the sofa and dangled his arm over the side.

Just then the door to the library was flung open and Anathema walked in, teetering a bit on her feet.

“Hey Zira, I’m going to head home.”

He blinked, only now realizing the music had gone quiet and he couldn’t hear anyone downstairs anymore.

“Oh dear, is the party over? Terribly sorry my dear, I hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting!”

She waved a hand. “It’s fine, I get it.” It was then that she noticed Crowley and her eyebrows crept up her forehead. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were still here. I can walk you out.”

Aziraphale felt his heart sink. He had been having such a good time talking with Crowley, and he really wasn’t ready to give it up. But he supposed it had to end eventually. He couldn’t force Crowley to stay. But then, to his surprise, Crowley shook his head.

“No, it’s ok. I’ll stay and help Aziraphale clean up.”

Anathema narrowed her eyes, suddenly suspicious. “I can come tomorrow and help him.”

Crowley looked back to Aziraphale with a raised eyebrow. “It’s up to you angel. I can leave if you want.”

Aziraphale’s face warmed at the nickname. He turned to Anathema. “It’s alright dear. He can stay.”

She stood in the doorway for a moment more, still looking unsure, but ultimately nodded. “Ok, fine. But call me in the morning, ok? And it was Anthony Crowley, right?”

He grinned. “Yep. Would you like a photo of my driver’s license?”

For a moment Aziraphale thought that she was going to say yes, but then she shook her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow Zira.”

He waved, eager for her to leave him be. “Yes, of course.”

Anathema finally shut the door, and Aziraphale slumped down in his chair.

Crowley chuckled. “I believe she thinks I’m either going to rob you or murder you.”

Aziraphale hummed. “Yes, I think you’re right. You won’t, will you?”

Crowley wiggled his hand. “Eh, haven’t decided yet.”

“I see. Well, if you do decide to murder me, would you be so kind as to do it outside this room. I would hate to get blood all over the first editions.”

Crowley threw his head back and cackled, his red hair falling away from his face and exposing the long column of his neck. Aziraphale’s pulse quickened as he allowed his eyes to track the curve of his throat down to the hollow between his collar bones. He was slim, but Aziraphale knew there would be muscle and strength beneath the taut, freckled skin. He wondered what he would taste like if he were brave enough to lean forward and cross the divide between them. To take initiative for once and claim what he wanted. But he could never be so bold. What if Crowley was disgusted by him and pushed him away? What if this was all friendly banter? He would seem like a predator who had lured a handsome young man into a private room of his home. He shook his head forcibly.

“So,” Aziraphale began in an attempt to get conversation back to normal, “Have you been doing your profession long?”

Crowley shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, suppose so. About ten years now.”

“My, that is a long time.”

“Mm, yeah. Started out as just something to pay the bills, but after a while you just fall into routine.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

Crowley licked his lips, which was terribly distracting. “It’s alright. I work a lot of nights and weekends, and sometimes get some shady customers, but for the most part it’s fine. Not exactly my dream job, but hey, we can’t all end up with the life we mapped out on our dream boards.”

Aziraphale frowned. “What did you want to be?”

Crowley swirled his drink lazily. “Went to school for horticulture. But as a twenty-two-year-old fresh out of university there weren’t many jobs in that field that paid enough to live in London.”

For a long moment Aziraphale didn’t respond, instead just watching Crowley and the sharp lines of his face. His eyes were distant, staring into his glass as though they held an answer he was looking for. Aziraphale cleared his throat.

“Terribly sorry my dear, I didn’t mean to pry.”

Crowley blinked and looked over at him before smiling. “Don’t apologize, you weren’t prying.”

“Still. If you would like to leave I would understand. I know I’m not the most fun person to be around.”

Crowley frowned and tilted his head. “That’s not true. I’m having a great time. Better than I’ve had in a long time.”

Aziraphale scoffed and shook his head. “Come now, that’s not true.”

“It is!” he insisted. Crowley looked down, suddenly seeming shy, before looking back up at him. “You’re actually the reason I decided to stay.”

Aziraphale’s eyes went wide. “What?”

Crowley reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah. I mean, when I saw you standing there, I thought you were a literal angel. All bright and glowy and flushed. And then you looked so cute when you got flustered, I knew I wanted to talk to you. I’ve never stayed after a gig before, but there was just something about you.”

Aziraphale wasn’t sure if his heart had stopped beating or if it was just going so fast that he couldn’t feel it anymore. Was he serious? Surely not. But then why would he even say that to begin with? Crowley did not seem like a cruel person or the type to lead him on a cruel joke.

“I’m- I’m not anybody special.”

“Well, that’s just preposterously not true. You invited someone you barely know to drink an eight-hundred-pound bottle of scotch with you, and you haven’t once treated me like I was below you because of my profession.”

“Why would I?”

Crowley pointed at him. “See, that’s my point! You would be surprised by how many people find out what I do and immediately make assumptions about me.”

“Well then they are terrible people. That still doesn’t make me special.”

Crowley groaned and dropped his head back. “Alright, do you want me to just say it?”

Aziraphale was truly perplexed now. “Say what?”

“Angel, you’re bloody hot! Legitimately one of the sexiest men I’ve ever seen.”

Aziraphale was positive he had heard him wrong. The literal embodiment of temptation in front of him did not just admit to being attracted to him. Perhaps he had passed out after initially meeting him for the first time, and this was all just a dream. Maybe he was lying unconscious on the living room floor right now, making an absolute fool of himself. That would honestly be more likely than what was currently happening.

“I’m… you think I’m… I don’t understand.”

Crowley suddenly looked embarrassed as he sat back into the sofa and bit his lip. “Hey, I’m sorry if I misread this and you aren’t into me. I just thought… never mind.” He chuckled nervously and stood. “You’re obviously just a nice person and I, being the messed-up person I am, took that to immediately mean you were attracted to me. I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

Panic rose up inside Aziraphale as Crowley picked up his jacket off the back of the sofa and began to move towards the door. He leapt up.

“Wait! Don’t go!”

Crowley stopped and turned back.

“You… you didn’t misread it.” He swallowed, trying to force some moisture down his dry throat. “I am attracted to you. But I just don’t understand why you are to me.”

Crowley was still for a moment, his sharp golden eyes intent on Aziraphale’s face. “You really don’t see what I do, do you?”

Aziraphale shook his head. Crowley pressed his lips together, seeming to come to some decision. He dropped his jacket back onto the sofa and began to saunter closer, making his heart pound faster.

“You know, I never got the chance to give you that dance earlier, did I?”

Aziraphale was sure that if he tried to talk it would come out as a squeak, so instead he just shook his head. Crowley walked closer, slowly, until he was directly in front of him. At this range Aziraphale could make out the smell of his cologne. It was spicy and citrusy, and it made his mouth water. He was sure his cheeks were a bright pink and his pupils were blown. Crowley brought up a hand and ran his thumb across Aziraphale’s jaw.

“Would you like a private dance?”

A stuttering breath pushed its way past his lips, and somehow, he found the strength to nod again. Crowley smiled wider.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Crowley shoved him backwards into his chair, where he grabbed the arms and held on for any modicum of support. This _had_ to be a dream. In his forty years, nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Sure, he’d had plenty of sexual encounters, but not with someone like Crowley. He was forced out of his mental panic when Crowley hooked one finger under his chin and raised his head to look at him. There, in his eyes, Aziraphale saw his own desire reflected back at him. It was clear as day, and finally Aziraphale had to admit to himself that this was really happening.

“You’re stunning Angel, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

He took a step back, putting a bit of space between them and Aziraphale immediately missed the proximity. He gripped the arms of the chair harder as Crowley began to circle him where he sat, running his fingertips across the back of his neck and causing goosebumps to erupt across his skin.

“It’s been so long since someone has appreciated you, hasn’t it angel?”

“I don’t—”

Crowley pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh. You don’t need to say anything.”

Aziraphale swallowed. Crowley slid his hand down to his bowtie and pulled at it until it came undone.

“You’re so done up angel. Don’t you ever just want to let go and do something a little crazy?”

Another nod. Crowley reached up to the top button of his own shirt and began to slowly undo them, trailing his fingers over the exposed skin as he went. Aziraphale knew his mouth was hanging open sightly, but at the moment he could be arsed to care. As the buttons came undone more of Crowley’s chest was revealed, showing off the smattering of red hair and freckles he had known would be there. Every fiber in his being ached to reach out and touch, to quench a thirst that roared in his veins. As if reading his mind, Crowley picked up his hand from the arm of the chair and brought it up to rest on his bare chest. Aziraphale was shaking, from nerves or excitement he couldn’t tell. Possibly both.

He allowed his hand to trail downwards, gaining confidence when Crowley’s breath hitched as his fingers ran over to nubs of his nipples. He continued down until he reached his hip and gripped it firmly. Crowley made a sound low in his throat. He leaned forward, grasping the top of the chair on either side of Aziraphale’s head, and rolled his body in an almost serpentine way. It brought the obvious bulge in his trousers that much closer, and if Aziraphale needed any more confirmation of Crowley’s want, this was it. He couldn’t help the little whimper that escaped his lips.

Crowley leaned forward and whispered into his ear. “Do you want this angel? Do you want me? We can stop right now if you wish, but if not I would very much like to—”

Aziraphale never found out what it was he wanted to do, because it was at that moment he lost all semblance of self-control. He reached up to grip the back of Crowley’s head and pulled his mouth onto his, their lips crashing together in an open and messy kiss. Both men moaned into it. Crowley’s tongue slid forward, immediately demanding entrance, and Aziraphale allowed it. And oh, he tasted just as good as he had imagined. Aziraphale moved his hands down to Crowley’s hips and pulled him forward so that he was straddling him in his chair. The bulge in his own trousers grew more strained. Crowley ground down against it, eliciting another wanton moan.

“Crowley.”

“What do you want angel?”

“I- I don’t know. Whatever you’ll give me.”

Crowley brought his mouth to the juncture between his jaw and neck and sucked a mark. “I’ll give you anything you want. Let me take care of you?”

Aziraphale nodded. Crowley slid off his lap and knelt on the floor in front of him. His fingers dug into his thighs as he spread them.

“God, I love your thighs. They’re so plush and thick, I could just get lost in them.”

Aziraphale watched as he nuzzled his nose against him, and his heart stuttered in his chest when Crowley brought his long fingers up to the buttons of his trousers. He popped the button open and slowly slid down the zipper, maintaining eye contact the whole time. Aziraphale’s breathing was labored as Crowley slipped his hands into his pants and pulled him out. Now it was Crowley’s turn for his eyes to go wide.

“Jesus, angel, you’re big. You’re going to stretch me.”

“Y-yes I know. We don’t have to—”

His words were cut off by a strangled cry as Crowley wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock and sucked him into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the head as he worked it further into his mouth, his hand stroking the base and fondling his balls.

“Oh, oh Lord! Crowley, that feels amazing!”

He brought his hand down to grip at his hair and Crowley hummed. Slowly, Crowley began to work him further into his mouth. His lips were stretched wide to take the full girth of him and saliva dripped its way down his shaft. The slick, wet sounds were enough to drive Aziraphale mad, and when the tip of his cock finally pressed into the back of Crowley’s throat, he threw his head back and cried out. Crowley gagged a little but didn’t stop, his hand and mouth working in tandem to bring his to release. But Aziraphale didn’t want to come like this, not yet. He tugged at Crowley’s hair.

“My dear, if you are so inclined, I would very much like to fuck you.”

Crowley pulled off him and stared up with glazed eyes. “Yeah, fuck angel, I’m inclined.”

Aziraphale pulled him up and kissed him sloppily, tasting himself on his pink lips. He then stood and pushed Crowley back so that he was against the desk. Crowley made quick work of his trousers and pants, pulling them down and tossing them away. Crowley was now completely bare, except for the open shirt that hung off his shoulders, while Aziraphale was still completely dressed but for his cock that stood at attention. Something about that thrilled Aziraphale.

“Bend over the desk darling, and hand me the lube in that drawer.”

Crowley did as he said, bending forward and sliding open the desk drawer to reveal a small clear bottle. He chuckled as he handed it over.

“My, angel. I admit it’s a lovely thought to imagine you in here amongst your books, fucking your hand.”

He smiled. “I daresay you’re a far better sight like this.”

He slid his hand down his back and cupped his arse, spreading his cheeks and pressing his thumb to the ring of muscle that waited there. Crowley hissed and bucked his hips back, trying to take more of him. Aziraphale coated his fingers with lube and brought them back down to his entrance, where he slid one finger in. Crowley moaned and began to gently rock his hips in time with Aziraphale’s movements. He gradually worked his way up to three fingers, scissoring him open.

“Angel, come on, I’m ready.”

“Not yet, dear.”

Crowley whined and pressed his forehead to the sleek wood of the desk. When Aziraphale inserted a fourth finger, Crowley let out a salacious moan.

“Fucking hell!”

Once Aziraphale was sure Crowley was open enough for him, he slid his fingers out and procured a condom from the desk drawer. He slid it on and slicked himself with the lube, and then spun Crowley around to face him.

“Fuck, you’re still so done up,” Crowley whispered.

“Is that bad?”

He shook his head. “No. I like it. Makes me feel like I’m being punished by a stern librarian.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Well in that case…”

He picked him up by the legs and turned to press his back against the bookshelves, then leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t make a sound, or I’ll have to make an example of you.”

Crowley bit his lip to stop a whimper. Using only one hand to hold him up, Aziraphale lined the blunt head of his cock up with Crowley’s entrance and slowly pushed in. Crowley’s mouth fell open in a silent shout, all of the breath seemingly punched out of him.

“Shit, fuck, you’re so big! God that feels amazing.”

Aziraphale thrust a few more inches in and Crowley slammed his head back against the bookshelf.

“I _said_ be quiet.”

Crowley brought his fist up and bit his knuckles as Aziraphale finally seated himself fully inside him. Crowley was so tight and hot around him, and it was better than anything he had ever felt. The view also greatly improved matters. Crowley’s hair was a mess and his face was flushed a bright pink, his eyes screwed shut as he focused on adjusting to the large cock inside him. Aziraphale stilled for a moment, then began to rock his hips. He knew he was hitting a good spot, because every time he would thrust in, Crowley would press his lips together and make a strangled sound deep in his chest.

He picked up the pace, fucking into him and making Crowley bounce on his cock. The bookshelves rocked behind them, the books swaying slightly with the force of their bodies slamming against them. Crowley was still making the quiet sounds.

“Go ahead my darling. It’s alright, let me hear you.”

As though a damn were breaking, Crowley threw back his head and wailed. The sound nearly made Aziraphale come right then and there, to know it was him making Crowley feel that way.

“Oh my god, angel, you feel so fucking good inside me. You fill me up just right. You’re so god damn perfect.”

Aziraphale pressed his forehead into Crowley’s shoulder. “It feels like you were made for me, darling. You’re a perfect fit.”

Crowley wound his fingers into his hair and tugged. “Please, I’m so close. So fucking close.”

Aziraphale knew what he needed. “Wrap your legs around me.”

Crowley did, clamping his legs tight to his waist. Aziraphale brought one of the hands that had been holding him up to his weeping cock and began to stroke him.

“Oh, oh shit! Just like that. You’re so good, so fucking good.”

Aziraphale was now pounding into him, shaking the entire wall to the point he worried the bookcase would crash through. But he didn’t stop. At this point he doubted he could if he wanted to. He was so close, his release coiled tight in his groin. And then Crowley came with a shout, his arse tightening impossibly around him. Aziraphale followed him over, coming harder than he could ever remember. He pumped a few more times, riding it out. Crowley was breathing heavily, his eyes closed and his head back. With his last bit of strength, Aziraphale moved away from the bookshelves and brought Crowley over to the sofa, where he laid them both down with Crowley on top of him. Crowley blinked his eyes open.

“Holy fuck, angel. That was…”

Aziraphale nodded. “Indeed.”

Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale’s chest as they both continued to come down from their orgasm.

“I have to say, when I accepted this job, I wasn’t expecting it to go this way.”

Aziraphale frowned and looked down at him. “Wait, you didn’t do this because… because it’s your…”

Crowley’s eyes went wide and he lifted his head. “What? No! I’m a stripper, not an escort! I did this because I like you and I wanted to.”

Aziraphale’s nerves settled and he calmed once more. “Oh, oh good. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I was dreading tonight, and you really made it one hundred times better.”

Crowley grinned and rested his chin on his hand. “I’m glad.”

Suddenly, Aziraphale realized he wasn’t sure where to go from here. Should he invite Crowley to stay the night? Was that too forward? After what they had just done it didn’t seem so, but he knew there were certain rules to these things that he had never learned. He never did this sort of thing. Crowley seemed to sense his internal struggle.

“Do you want me to stay the night?”

Aziraphale licked his lips. “Well, yes, if that’s what you would like.”

Crowley smiled gently. “I mean, I _did_ offer to help you clean up. Why don’t we get some sleep and do it in the morning?”

Aziraphale let out pleased sigh and nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

* * *

The next morning, Anathema showed up right at nine am. She knew Aziraphale was always up by eight, and so she let herself in with her extra key. She expected to walk into a disaster of a house, as that’s how it had been left the night before when she had left. So it was a shock to step into a completely clean front hall and living room. Aziraphale must have woken up at an exceptionally early hour to get this much done already.

Shame twisted in her gut. This had been her plan and her party she had thrown for him, so she had wanted to be the one to help clean. The sound of the sink running in the kitchen brought out of her head.

Anathema made her way into the kitchen and found Aziraphale at the sink, washing one of the clear glass bowls they had used for the punch.

“Hey, Zira.”

He turned and gave her a bright smile. “Oh, Ana dear, hello. What are you doing here?”

“I told you I was going to come over this morning and help clean. How did you get so much done on your own?”

She noticed a pink flush to his cheeks as he looked back to the bowl in his hands. “Oh, well actually, you see-“

“Hey angel, I think this is the last of the trash.”

Anathema’s eyebrows rose up her forehead as the red head from the night before, Crowley, sauntered into the room carrying two large trash bags. Anathema wouldn’t normally jump to conclusions with Aziraphale, except for the fact that Crowley was only wearing one of Aziraphale’s oversized jumpers and a pair of boxers.

Crowley smiled when he saw her. “Oh, hey, neighbor girl. I’ve already helped Aziraphale clean most of the mess.”

She looked back and forth between the attractive red head and Aziraphale, who was now studiously wiping down the counter and avoiding eye contact with her.

“Uh, yeah, I can see that.”

Crowley set the trash bags on the floor and walked over to Aziraphale.

“Hey angel, I actually have an appointment to get to, so I better go get changed. But I’ll see you tonight for dinner?”

Aziraphale smiled shyly and nodded. “Yes, of course darling.”

Crowley leaned forward and pecked Aziraphale on the lips before turning and strutting past Anathema, giving her a wink before heading upstairs. The room was silent for a long moment before Anathema let out a squeal.

“Aziraphale!” she whispered, marching over to him. “Did you sleep with that sexy stripper?”

Aziraphale didn’t look at her as he continued to put plates away into the cupboard. “His name is Crowley.”

“Oh my god you did! You totally boned him.”

“Ugh, Ana, please don’t use that word.”

“Admit it!”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not denying it.”

She clapped a hand over her mouth. “You saucy minx! And to think, I felt bad for hiring him after you seemed so embarrassed.”

“Yes, well,” he pursed his lips. “He grew on me.”

Anathema wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh, I bet he did.”

Aziraphale swatted at her, but it was clear he was fighting a smile. “Stop that!”

“And you’re seeing him again? For dinner?”

He nodded. “Yes. It seems we quite enjoy each other’s company.”

Anathema did a little dance, much to Aziraphale’s exasperation. “Zira, he’s freaking hot.”

“I am aware.”

“I thought he was going to kill you.”

“He didn’t.”

“Obviously.”

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs made her clamp her mouth shut. Crowley appeared around the corner, wearing his black button up and the jeans from the night before.

“See you tonight angel.”

“Yes, I’ll see you then dear. Mind how you go.”

Crowley walked to the door, stopped, and turned back towards the kitchen. He marched back to Aziraphale and pulled him into a deep kiss. Aziraphale made a small sound of surprise but kissed him back. When he pulled away Aziraphale looked a bit dazed. Anathema only grinned at Crowley as he walked past once more and finally disappeared out the door.

* * *

Outside, Crowley grinned wildly at the sound of a shriek and laughter from inside. He didn’t even try to tamper down the giddiness in his chest. Best. Job. Ever.


End file.
